The Lycanthrope
by Pyro1588
Summary: [DISCONTINUED] This is the story of a young boy who was seperated from his family in a tragic attack. But this isn't any normal boy. No, this boy is a lycanthrope.
1. Prologue

The Lycanthrope  
  
By Pyro1588  
  
Chapter 1: Prologue  
  
My name is Konlar. I am a Lycanthrope, or a were-wolf. I was born that way, not bitten by one, as some people believe. You see, many people consider lycanthropes to be cursed or possessed. They think that we should be destroyed because we are evil creatures.  
  
No one has ever stopped to think that maybe we are human just like everyone else. For this reason, we are still persecuted because of something about ourselves that we can't change.  
  
Many of our people have been attacked by soldiers, and even more have been captured and burned at the stake. People assume that, just because we aren't exactly like them, we don't deserve to live.  
  
It's a hard life as a lycanthrope. You're always wandering. No place can be your true home, because you are discovered much too often. Then you have to escape and begin wandering all over again.  
  
This is how I have lived my whole life. This is the story of my life. It began several years back, when I was still a young child...  
  
*****  
  
The air was filled with the sounds of screaming. The village had once again been discovered and was being attacked. Innocent women and children, all lycanthropes in their human form, were running away from the soldiers that were raiding the town.  
  
"To the desert! They can't track us there!"  
  
The man who yelled that was cut down immediately. But the message had been given. Lycanthropes can survive for several days without food or water. This is why they had their village on the southeastern edge of the Yampi Desert.  
  
All the lycanthropes began to flee to the desert. The soldiers didn't pursue them.  
  
But as they ran out onto the sand, they were suddenly cut down by dozens of arrows. The soldiers had thought of this route of escape and had placed archers in the desert.  
  
As they realized that they wouldn't be able to escape into the desert, they ran back into the town. The soldiers were ready.  
  
The soldiers had planned this to be their final attack. This would wipe out the lycanthropes forever.  
  
But there was one thing that the soldiers had overlooked: Tonight was the wrong night to attack.  
  
The clouds in the sky suddenly began to clear, revealing a full moon. The lycanthropes were aware of this and immediately looked up at it.  
  
The soldiers were overwhelmed by a sudden onslaught of viscous wolves. The animals were slashing at their faces with deadly claws and using their teeth to rip out the soldiers' throats.  
  
But even during this moment when the odds had apparently flipped, the soldiers took the advantage. The animals weren't armored, and the soldiers still had swords and bows.  
  
One by one, the wolves were felled. After half of them were gone, the rest began to flee. The soldiers attempted to pursue them, but the wolves easily outran them.  
  
By morning, most of the fires set by the soldiers had burned down. All that was left was smoldering rubble. The bodies of the lycanthropes had been piled and burned.  
  
Far off to the southwest, the lycanthropes had found a new area for a village. It was much more sheltered and protected, and required scaling a cliff to get to it. Garoh was founded.  
  
Back at the old village, there was silence. A bush rustled. And then, a boy, no older than thirteen, crawled out of it.  
  
He was very dirty from all of the smoke and ash. His clothes were shredded. He was completely alone here.  
  
He looked around at the destruction that was his village. Then he saw the burning bodies. There, at the outer edge of the pile, was his father's body, or what was left of it. The boy sat down and cried himself to sleep. Fortunately, the soldiers had chased the werewolves out of the village and hadn't come back to check for survivors.  
  
Several hours later, he woke up again. He realized that he needed to go find a town if he wanted to survive.  
  
He dug through the rubble of his house and found a different set of clothes. He was also able to recover a single item of his from the rubble: his knife. His father had made it for him and had taught him how to use it. The handle was wrapped in black leather, and it had a wide hilt. The blade was six inches long and serrated at the base on one side. He sheathed the knife and strapped it onto his right thigh, ready at a moment's notice.  
  
He began to walk to the southwest. If he followed this path for a few days, he would come to Mikasalla.  
  
After an hour of walking, he was feeling hungry and thirsty. He quenched his thirst at a nearby river, but he had no food with him.  
  
Suddenly, he saw a large rabbit staring at him. He lunged at it, unsheathing his knife as he flew towards it.  
  
The knife missed the rabbit and stabbed into the ground. The rabbit was off and running. The boy set off after it.  
  
As he ran, he suddenly felt himself changing form. Soon, he was chasing the rabbit on all fours as a wolf. In this form, he outran and caught it quickly.  
  
When he was done eating, he suddenly changed form again. As a human, he quickly retrieved his knife and sheathed it, then continued his trip.  
  
'Why did I change form in the middle of the day? That only happens at night with a full moon.'  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling behind him. He turned around to see a wild boar, ready to charge him. If this animal were to charge, he'd be dead.  
  
He began running away from the animal at full speed. But the boar charged anyway. It was quickly catching up to him.  
  
"Come on, change form!" he yelled at himself. And suddenly, he did. As a wolf, he outran the large pig until he came to safety.  
  
When he was safe, he changed back into a human. He was starting to understand how to change his form at will. It was like whistling: the actual technique was impossible to explain verbally, but when you figured out how to do it, it became a second nature to you.  
  
"Well, at least this will save me in a tight spot," he said to himself as he was walking.  
  
Two more days of walking brought him to Mikasalla. Once there, he quickly made his way to the inn and rented a room for the night.  
  
That evening, as he sat in the common room eating his supper, a woman walked up to him and sat down.  
  
She appeared to be in her forties, and looked friendly and caring.  
  
"Where are your parents, boy?" she asked him.  
  
"They're dead. Our village was attacked by raiders and they slaughtered everyone."  
  
"I'm so sorry. When did that happen?"  
  
"Three days ago. After that, I decided that I needed to travel to a town or I would starve."  
  
"Do you need a place to stay?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. I have a room here in the inn."  
  
But she didn't give up easily. "You can't just keep renting a room indefinitely. You are going to need a home somewhere. I have room at my house. My son just moved out. Do you want to live with us?"  
  
He paused, thinking it through. "Who's your husband?"  
  
"He's the mayor of town. We have a nice house and an extra room. I'd be more than happy if you were to stay with us."  
  
He nodded his head. "Okay. But only if you're sure."  
  
She smiled at him. "Of course I am. What's your name?"  
  
"Konlar."  
  
"Nice to meet you. I'm Mary."  
  
He finished eating, then followed her to her home.  
  
The house was large and roomy. His room had a large, soft bed in it. Her husband was named Kyle, and was very friendly.  
  
'How long am I going to stay?' he wondered as he lay there that night. 'Oh well. A few days, anyway.'  
  
A/N: Okay, so I did re-upload this. I know. I completely forgot to have it proofread. Thanks so much Wusai for doing that for me. A few things that need to be addressed:  
  
Konlar said that his village had been destroyed by "raiders," not soldiers. Mary didn't know what village he was from.  
  
Mary is NOT the innkeeper's wife. The innkeeper isn't the mayor. Mary just dropped by the inn (for some unaddressed reason) and saw Konlar there. Sorry. I should have pointed that out before.  
  
Taking in a homeless kid isn't unheard of. My parents have done it before. And she was just a runaway. If a kid came to my door who's family had been slaughtered in mass genocide, then I would offer them a place to stay.  
  
No, Konlar won't run across other GS characters. This is many years before GS takes place.  
  
Oh, and Konlar's not just out on an adventure. He's out for revenge =)  
  
A/N: Well, what do you think of it so far? I'm already starting on the next chapter, so that will be up soon. Please review! Thanx.  
  
Andrew Ames (Pyro1588)  
  
http://www.weyard.cjb.net/  
  
01/10/04  
  
3:01 PM  
  
73 paragraphs  
  
211 lines  
  
1563 words 


	2. On Your Own

The Lycanthrope  
  
By Pyro1588  
  
Chapter 2: On Your Own  
  
The "several days" that Konlar planned to stay gradually turned into two years. Kyle and Mary had practically adopted him as their own son.  
  
He learned many things while living with them. His skill with daggers improved immensely. Konlar had started out very talented with them. He was now a master, able to throw a dagger and take down a flying sparrow with it.  
  
He had become an apprentice to the local blacksmith and had learned how to forge weapons. His skill with weapon creation improved to the point that Justin, the blacksmith, had made him a business partner.  
  
Since no one knew that he was a lycanthrope, he rarely morphed. Only when he was out on a camping trip and completely alone would he morph into a wolf.  
  
In spite of his wonderful home and high-paying occupation, Konlar was not satisfied. He still remembered that night. The night when he had to hide in a bush to save himself from the genocide that took his family.  
  
He couldn't stop his mourning for them. Every day he was overcome with grief over what had happened.  
  
One day as he was sitting in his room, admiring the dagger that his father had made for him, he snapped. "That night has haunted me long enough. I will find the soldiers that launched that attack and kill them. I will avenge my family and my race."  
  
Later that day, he asked Kyle about Mikasalla's troops. "Well, we don't have a very formidable force. Just enough to defend the town. I believe that our soldiers number at fifty."  
  
"Has Mikasalla ever launched any attacks on any other villages or towns?"  
  
"Yes, we have launched the occasional preemptive assault. The last one launched was actually done so against my will. Three years ago, the head officer came and asked permission to launch an attack on a small village to the east.  
  
Supposedly, the people there were cursed warriors that were going to attack us. After listening to the whole story, I told him that it was ridiculous and that he didn't have permission.  
  
A year later, he called the soldiers together and set off to the east. When they returned a week later, I fired him."  
  
"Do we have a record of the soldiers in the militia?"  
  
"I think I have one stored away somewhere. If you want, you can look through my files. Why do you ask about this?"  
  
"Oh, just a hunch."  
  
Konlar spent the next five hours sorting through years of old paperwork. Finally, he found what he was looking for. A roster of the militia. It was two years old.  
  
Only eight of original thirty soldiers that carried out the genocide were still in Mikasalla. The rest had either gone on to other towns or, in the case of two of them, died in combat.  
  
*****  
  
That night, Konlar prepared to strike the Mikasalla barracks. He grabbed his dagger and strapped it onto his upper leg. "Tonight, the vengeance begins."  
  
He waited until two in the morning before sneaking out. He quickly slipped into the shadows behind his house.  
  
The barracks were only about three hundred feet away. He was able to sneak up and hide against the wall without being seen.  
  
He had checked the guard roster earlier that day. The man on guard wasn't one of his eight targets. That complicated things. He couldn't just kill an innocent man in cold blood. He had to sneak past.  
  
An idea struck him. He quickly jumped up and grabbed onto the edge of the roof, pulling himself up.  
  
He crouched down and made his way to the front of the barracks. He looked down at the guard, took aim, then jumped.  
  
The guard was knocked unconscious and fell to the ground. Konlar dragged his body up against the wall and snuck in.  
  
Once in, he drew his knife and crept up to his first target. The man looked to be forty-eight. Ah well, age didn't matter. All that mattered was that this man had killed off Konlar's friends and family.  
  
Konlar stabbed the knife down through the man's throat, severing his spinal cord. The man opened his eyes in shock, but couldn't move his body.  
  
"I'm a werewolf. You killed my family and friends. That's why I killed you."  
  
He walked over to his next target. This man appeared to be forty and a battle-hardened veteran. As before, Konlar didn't care who this person was. All that mattered was vengeance.  
  
He used the same method as before, stabbing his dagger through the man's throat. The man grimaced in pain.  
  
"You killed my family in your attack on the werewolf village. This is vengeance."  
  
He killed the other six in the same manner, then snuck out again. He paused briefly to wipe the blood off his knife. He was back in his room before the guard even woke up.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning, there was an uproar in Mikasalla. Soldiers had been murdered in their sleep.  
  
Of course, the rumors said anywhere from eleven to all thirty had been killed. The rumors also said that they had been stabbed, strangled, disemboweled, decapitated, and many other gruesome forms of death.  
  
Only the mayor and the troops in the barracks actually knew the truth. Eight soldiers had been stabbed in their sleep. No one knew who had committed the murders. The guard at the door had been found unconscious with a large bruise on his head.  
  
Kyle was busy looking through the military records, trying to find some connection between the murdered troops, something they all had in common, but none of the other soldiers had.  
  
So far he had found nothing unique to the eight soldiers who were murdered. He had spent hours looking over every detail of every military action in the last twenty months.  
  
"Konlar!" Kyle yelled. Konlar came running. "What is it?"  
  
"You know those military records that you were looking at? I need them."  
  
Konlar paled. "Why?"  
  
"I'm trying to find some connection between the murdered troops."  
  
Konlar lowered his head in submission. He ran up to his room and brought the records back to Kyle.  
  
Kyle studied the records for fifteen minutes before noticing the common factor he was looking for. "Here it is!" he said as Mary brought him something to drink.  
  
"They were all involved in the attack on that small settlement two years ago. You know, the one that resulted in the chief officer getting fired."  
  
Mary nodded. "So how does that help determine who killed them?"  
  
"Well, it was most likely a survivor from that settlement. Did any people pass through town from the east after that attack?"  
  
Mary shook her head. "No, no one that I can think of."  
  
She gasped, and then stood up.  
  
"Mary, what is it?" Kyle asked her.  
  
"Nothing. Nothing at all."  
  
She made her way up to Konlar's room and pounded on the door. "Konlar, let me in!"  
  
The door opened and she walked inside. Konlar was sitting on his bed, head bowed.  
  
"Konlar, you told me that your village had been attacked by raiders and that your family had been killed. What village are you from?"  
  
"A small one to the east. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Because we both know who committed the murder last night. Your family was killed in the attack two years ago, and you decided to get revenge on the men who carried out that attack."  
  
Konlar was silent.  
  
"Well, is that true or not?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Come downstairs. We need to talk."  
  
*****  
  
Twenty minutes later, he had related the whole experience. Every detail of that awful night.  
  
"For the past two years, I have been mourning their deaths. Yesterday, I snapped and decided that it was time for vengeance. If you can help me track down the other twenty, I would be very grateful."  
  
Kyle was recovering from the shock over what Konlar had done. "Why should we help you track down men so that you can murder them?"  
  
"Because they killed my family in cold blood without any reason whatsoever. Tell me why that doesn't deserve revenge?"  
  
"Because vengeance doesn't belong to you. It belongs to God, not to you."  
  
"If you won't help me, then I will go and track them down myself."  
  
"Konlar, I realize what kind of pain you are going through. My father was ambushed and killed by robbers. But I didn't waste my life tracking them down to kill them. I accepted my father's death and moved on.  
  
"If you are going to do this, then I can't stop you. It is wrong, Konlar, and I wish that you could simply accept your family's death and move on. But if you can't, then I pray that you will survive this. Regardless of whether you are sinning, you are still as close to me as my own son."  
  
Konlar nodded. "You have been a second father to me. And you, Mary, have been a second mother. But you must understand this: Some of my race besides me survived. If I don't kill these men, then there is nothing to stop them from killing off what remains of my race."  
  
Kyle nodded. Mary started to cry. "Konlar, please take care of yourself."  
  
*****  
  
The next evening, Konlar was ready to leave. He grabbed his backpack and walked with Kyle and Mary to the edge of town.  
  
Once there, he embraced both of them. "I'll be back. Don't worry."  
  
He started walking off to the west. When he was twenty feet away from Kyle and Mary, he morphed and ran off.  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Another re-upload. Thanks again to Wusai for proofreading.  
  
A/N: Sad chapter. But at least I finished another chapter in spite of school =) The rest of this fic is going to deal with Konlar tracking down the other men. Please review! I need feedback if I'm going to continue this.  
  
Andrew Ames (Pyro1588)  
  
http://www.weyard.cjb.net/  
  
(^^ It's finally up and working! YAYAYAYAYA!)  
  
01/16/04  
  
12:57 PM  
  
88 paragraphs  
  
248 lines  
  
1675 words 


	3. Alhafra

The Lycanthrope  
  
By Pyro1588  
  
Chapter 3: Alhafra  
  
Konlar's next five targets were in Alhafra. He planned to travel due north and save time by cutting through the western Yampi Desert.  
  
A day of walking brought him to the sandy borders of that dry wilderness. "Well, I guess it's do or die."  
  
He morphed into a wolf and started running through the desert.  
  
Konlar had underestimated the size of the desert. Not only was it larger than he had thought, it was a maze of rock. Three times he had to turn around and find a different path.  
  
Fortunately, his race had surprising endurance, and could travel for several days without water.  
  
As he was running through the burning sand, a wild lizard jumped out and lunged at him. He jumped aside and assessed his enemy.  
  
It was about eight feet long and had to weigh at least a thousand pounds. Instead of skin, it was covered in thick scales. This would be a difficult battle.  
  
The lizard jumped at him again. He leapt out of the way. He prepared to evade again, but this time the lizard began to breathe fire at him. His fur caught and began to burn.  
  
Konlar dropped to the ground and rolled. That helped, but didn't extinguish all the flames.  
  
He ran away from the creature, his fur still burning, then turned around and ran full speed at it.  
  
When he was fifteen feet away, he gave a tremendous jump. As he flew into the air, he morphed back into a human. His fur was gone, leaving nothing else to burn.  
  
As he began to descend on the lizard, he drew his dagger.  
  
Konlar landed on the lizard's back, plunging the knife down between two scales. The creature screamed and dropped to the ground, writhing around in pain.  
  
He sheathed his knife and began to walk north again, leaving the lizard to die. Normally, he would have put it out of its misery. But right now, time was pressing and he was annoyed at the creature.  
  
Three days of constant running finally brought Konlar out of that fiery wasteland. As he left the sand and wind behind, he noticed a small creek. He ran at it full speed, plunging himself into it and drinking his fill.  
  
After a long drink, he morphed back into a human. He walked over to a large tree and leaned up against it. For the first time in days, he could relax.  
  
*****  
  
Several hours later, he woke up from his nap. "Well, I guess I'd better get going."  
  
It took an hour of walking to reach the small city, but Konlar enjoyed the peace and quiet. This gave him time to think. And lately, he had a lot to think about.  
  
For example, he was tracking down twenty different men with the intention of killing them in cold blood. Three years ago, he would have paled at the thought.  
  
But he was a different person now. He looked back at what he used to be like and was surprised by the change that he had undergone. He used to be a happy, joyful child. He was now a killer.  
  
His attention was drawn away from his thoughts as he entered the town. Alhafra wasn't a large city like Tolbi or Kalay, but it was a lot bigger than a town like Mikasalla. It had several businesses that did international trade, and a great many shops. There were also several forges in the city.  
  
His first stop was at a restaurant to get some food. He found an outfitter and bought some equipment and supplies. After checking the roster at the local barracks, he walked off into the housing district to wait for nightfall. According to the roster at the barracks, all five of his targets were still stationed here.  
  
As he was wandering around, a local soldier walked up and stopped him.  
  
"Alright son, how old are you?"  
  
He glanced at the officer, then turned away. "What's it to you?"  
  
"We have laws in this town about weapons. That's no pen knife you have there." He gestured at Konlar's dagger.  
  
"I'm fifteen and this is my only form of defense when I'm out wandering."  
  
"Sorry son, but you're not old enough to be carrying that around. You'll have to come down to the barracks with me."  
  
Konlar faced the soldier. "Before you haul me off to jail, what's your name?"  
  
"My name is Nathan Holdsta. Why do you ask?"  
  
Konlar's eyes narrowed as he realized that this was one of the genocidal killers.  
  
"Oh, no reason. Just curious." The officer grabbed Konlar's right arm and turned around, preparing to lead Konlar to the barracks. He never saw Konlar's other arm.  
  
Konlar had spun around to his left, jumped off the ground, and slammed his elbow into the back of Holdsta's head. At the same time, he kicked his feet full-force into the back of Holdsta's knees.  
  
The man fell to the ground, completely dazed. Konlar quickly dragged him down into an alley between two houses.  
  
*****  
  
The man regained consciousness to find himself lying on the ground with a knife at his throat.  
  
He looked at the teenager who had him at his mercy. "S-s-son, w-what are y-you d-d-doing?"  
  
"Thinking about killing you. What's it look like?"  
  
"You're g-going to k-kill me because I s-stopped you about y-your knife?" He was quaking uncontrollably.  
  
"No, I'm going to kill you because three years ago, you attacked and burned my town. You murdered my family and friends, and you put my home to the torch. I was the only person that survived. As far as I know, I'm the last of my race."  
  
"What are you talking about? I never attacked..." He trailed off as he realized that Konlar was making reference to the werewolf incident. "You're a werewolf?"  
  
Konlar nodded. "And since I'm the only surviving one, can you offer me any reason why I should spare your life?"  
  
"You need to know that you're not the only one of your race left. Many of the werewolves actually got away during the attack. We couldn't track them, so we gave up."  
  
"First, how do I know that you're not telling me that just to save your skin? Second, my father's body was among those burned. Don't think that just because he was in his wolf form doesn't mean that I couldn't recognize him."  
  
Holdsta groaned as he realized that he had no proof to offer.  
  
"Any reasons at all?"  
  
"None that I can offer proof of. Please don't kill me! I was just following orders. I-"  
  
"Shut up. I'm following orders as well. The order of revenge. I have a roster of everyone involved in the attack, and I'm going to track every one of them down and kill them. And the way it appears, you're next on my list."  
  
The man began to plead again. "Please don't kill me! It wasn't my fault. It was the mayor who ordered us to!"  
  
"The mayor is my adopted father and he told me it was your commanding officer who initiated the attack. Now that you've lied to cover yourself, I think it's time for you to say 'goodbye.'"  
  
Holdsta's scream for help was silenced immediately as Konlar covered his mouth and stabbed him to death.  
  
He dragged the body further into the alley, cleaned his knife, then waited for nightfall.  
  
*****  
  
Konlar hid out until two in the morning, then made his way to the barracks. Fortunately, the only people in his way were drunks stumbling home. They were all too intoxicated to notice a young boy dressed in black sneaking between buildings.  
  
As he approached the front of the barracks, he noticed a problem. Four guards were on duty outside the door. He couldn't kill innocent men, not to mention that he couldn't take four of them at once anyway.  
  
He began to look over the design of the structure. As he studied it, he noticed a small pipe running out a small hole in the top of the door. Apparently, the barracks had been excavated from a massive two hundred by two hundred foot rock formation. Instead of carving chimneys out of the top, which would have been a serious problem in case of an attack, they had merely run metal pipes from the woodstoves that channeled the smoke outside. They all tied into a pipe leading out the front door.  
  
Konlar pulled himself up onto the roof and then crept to the front door where the small pipe was. During the summer, the woodstoves were rarely used aside from cooking. That meant that the pipe was cool and Konlar could hold onto it.  
  
After a half-hour wait, the guards prepared to switch off. Konlar took note and grabbed onto the pipe.  
  
As the ten-foot-tall doors opened and the fresh guards walked out, Konlar began to crawl down the outside of the pipe. As the guards exchanged pleasantries, Konlar continued to crawl down until he reached the level part of the pipe. He dropped his legs down and began to climb forward, pushing his arms to their limit.  
  
He quickly pulled himself up and wrapped his legs around the pipe as he heard the guards returning to the barracks to sleep. They walked underneath him without even noticing.  
  
As soon as they were in their rooms and the outside door was closed, he let himself down and dropped silently to the floor.  
  
He stepped over to the wall, leaning back against it in an attempt to minimize his visibility. He silently crept alongside the wall, stopping when he came to a corner. He looked around the corner to check for guards.  
  
Once he was sure the hallway was clear, he walked down until he came to the door where his next two targets were sleeping. He opened the door quietly, then stabbed them both. He wiped his dagger, then walked out and shut the door.  
  
His next target was across the hallway. He was dispatched of just as easily.  
  
Konlar's final target was a little more difficult. The man had recently been promoted to a high rank. This had earned him his own room. His door was equipped with a bolt lock, which proved to be an obstacle.  
  
Konlar was looking for a solution when he noticed the smoke pipe running along the ceiling. An idea struck him.  
  
He jumped as hard as he could, but couldn't reach the pipe. He tried climbing up the door, but it didn't have anything that could serve as a handhold. The wall was rough, but didn't have any bumps or cracks that he could climb with.  
  
As he was running his hand over the wall, trying to find a way to climb it, he caught his hand on it, tearing the skin slightly. While he was attending to his small wound, he noticed that the wall was much rougher than he had estimated. Suddenly, he figured out how he was going to get hold of the pipe.  
  
He backed against the wall, then ran across the hallway and jumped. As he made contact with the opposite wall, he shoved his feet off of it, giving himself about sixteen inches more height. He grabbed hold of the pipe.  
  
Konlar was now hanging with his feet about four feet above the ground. He threw his weight towards the locked door that he couldn't open.  
  
His boots made contact with the wood, creating a resounding bang. As the officer inside got out of bed to answer the door, Konlar pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around the smoke pipe.  
  
The man opened the door and leaned out into the hallway, trying to find whoever had woken him up.  
  
As he stepped out into the hallway, Konlar unwrapped his legs and let go of the pipe, dropping down on his target.  
  
The man was knocked to the floor, temporarily stunned. Konlar quickly unsheathed his dagger and stabbed the man to death. After a brief pause to clean his weapon, he sheathed it and began to run towards the front door of the barracks.  
  
*****  
  
Two minutes later, he was at the door. Unfortunately, someone had already found the bodies and sounded the alarm. The whole barracks would be awake in a minute.  
  
Konlar jumped and kicked off the wall, grabbing hold of the pipe. He pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around it and hoping that no one would notice.  
  
As soon as the commanding officer had been briefed, he ordered everyone into the meeting hall, including the two guards stationed outside.  
  
As soon as they opened the door, Konlar climbed out, pulling himself up onto the roof and making a quiet escape.  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Well, how was that? I'm thinking about the direction I'm going to take this fic, and I have an interesting idea for it. Anyway, I'm not updating this very often. It's difficult to write this and not repeat previous chapters. So basically, I let this fic sit until inspiration strikes. When it does, I type it up as fast as possible. Anyway, I really want to see some reviews on this before I update again. I need to know if people are actually reading this. How about 10 reviews? If I get 10 reviews, I'll try to think up another chapter.  
  
A/N(2): Before I upload this, I might as well mention that I'm also working on another fic. First chapter should be uploaded within a few days, hopefully. Then again, knowing me, it could be weeks =P  
  
Andrew Ames (Pyro1588)  
  
http://www.weyard.cjb.net/  
  
3/20/04  
  
11:00 AM  
  
93 paragraphs  
  
293 lines  
  
2279 words 


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